


Redux

by rosegardeninwinter



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 02:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegardeninwinter/pseuds/rosegardeninwinter
Summary: "He's wondering if we'd like to get a closer view of the sunset."Sixteen years on, Romantic Flight.





	Redux

They eat an early náttmál above deck with the baby dragons gamboling around them the whole time, nosing inquisitively at the smoked fish and skyr. Fink keeps sneaking the white Fury sloe berries when he thinks his parents aren’t looking and Hiccup lets him only because Toothless doesn’t seem to mind.

The Light Fury stays her distance, watching her mate and hatchlings from the shoreline, and empathetic Zephyr stares at her with a concerned expression. At one point, she reaches up to tug on her father’s cloak and whisper in his ear: “Is the Mamma dragon okay?” 

“She’s just fine, sweet girl,” he assures her. “She’s shy is all.”

“Oh.” Zephyr puts her thumb in her mouth, a bad habit they’re trying to break. “Like Stormy?”

Hiccup smiles at the comparison. Years back, on the first morning of his honeymoon, he’d presented Astrid with a basket of four kittens as part of her morning gift. One of these, named for the blue Nadder who is curled contentedly against Astrid, is nine years old and mean as a snake, despite Zephyr’s most earnest attempts to gain her trust. 

“Sort of like Stormy, yeah,” he tells her. “But not so cranky. She’s wild, Zephyr.” He can hear the voice of an old Greek merchant in a port market, rough and wise, teaching him the word he brought home to give his infant daughter, “Wild as the wind.”

“Wild as the wind,” she murmurs in a thoughtful lisp. “I like that.” She reminds him of his father at times like this; they have the same faraway gaze, only Zephyr’s is not yet sad. It’ll never be sad, if he has anything to say about it.

The sun is starting to go down and human children and hatchlings are playing a game which mostly involves everyone trying to tackle Toothless, who tumbles to his back again and again, rolling and rumbling dramatically, pretending that the tiny paws and hands have any affect on him, when the Light Fury glides over the boat and calls for her hatchlings. A collective complaint breaks out. Zephyr and Fink appeal to their mother with “ten more minutes” and “it’s not even dark yet!” as the hatchlings chirp and whine.

“It’s their bedtime too,” Astrid says, gathering Nuffink up in her arms. “And they’ll come to see us in the morning before we go.” 

Before we go. That thought thuds against his chest like a hammer on an anvil. One day with the dragons and then we have to go home. That was his own stipulation before they sailed from New Berk. Humans aren’t meant to be here.

But … somehow he can’t put his family into that category. Humans, that is. His children have eyes that match those of their winged cousins. 

Toothless nudges at his back. Maybe they’re sharing the same thought. 

The Light Fury yips in a way that can only mean “some help, dear?” Toothless warbles and gives Hiccup’s cheek a lick, then bounds over to the hatchlings, shooing them along with a distinct “mind your mother” demeanor.

The sky is gold when Hiccup and Astrid climb back up to the deck, Zephyr and Fink snugly tucked under piles of furs and smothered with kisses. They stand at the starboard bow and listen to the lap of waves against the ship. They’re true Vikings now, voyagers of the sea. 

“It’s funny,” she says after a moment. “We’ve both got three each.” 

The new babe isn’t due for seven months, and Astrid barely shows, but they’ve already decided what they’ll call him if it’s another son.

“We’ll have to come back,” Hiccup says. “To show him. Or her.”

He studies her as she studies the band of light at the edge of the sky. He’s often wondered if it was long days in the air and the sun back when they explored every island in the Archipelago that turned her hair from flax to cream. Sixteen years on she’s both every bit the unapproachable warrior he gawped at from the smithy and every bit the bride who couldn’t keep a straight face during the ceremonial serving of drink at their feast. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me, huh?” he’d joked on their wedding night. She’d held a pillow over his face for it, and frankly he’s at something of a loss even now as to how fearless Astrid Hofferson fell for a freckly toothpick, but it happened. And who is he to complain? 

He can feel some of the tension in her spine melt when he starts rubbing circles on the small of her back.

“This beats settling disputes over sheep ownership, that’s for sure,” she quips.

“You can say that again.”

“This beats settling disputes - ah! How old are you?” she shrieks as he attacks her with tickling fingers.

“You know what I meant,” he protests as she bats at him. He grabs her by her cloth vambraces and pulls her nose to nose. “C’mere, kjaereste.”

But she kisses first, still suppressing giggles.

A noise from the helm breaks them apart. Hiccup frowns as Toothless hops down to them. 

“What’s going on?”

The Night Fury wriggles his haunches excitedly and bobs his head between the two of them and then towards the horizon. Hiccup laughs and runs a hand through his hair in amazement as he realizes what Toothless is suggesting. 

“What is it?”

“He’s wondering if we’d like to get a closer view of the sunset.” 

Astrid inhales sharply. “How long has it been since we did that, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “But who’s going to take care - ?” 

A squawk answers that question. Stormfly lands on the deck and preens importantly. Astrid claps a hand to her mouth. 

“Seems like they thought of everything.”

“Seems so. What do you say, milady?” 

Astrid raises a brow at Toothless. “Cut back on the spinning this time,” she warns and Toothless twitches his fins a bit too innocently. 

Hiccup swings up onto the dragon’s back and helps his wife up behind him. 

“Okay, Toothless. Take us away.” 

The dragon tenses, like a net launcher about to unhinge, then he springs into the sky and flies upward at the pace of a shooting star, but his riders have anticipated it. Hiccup buckles forward to get under the rush of wind that hits them, and Astrid’s legs go around him like a vise. She screams, but it’s a scream of exhilaration as Toothless tips in midair and in a blur of red and orange, plummets toward the sea. He spins onto his side, wings clipping the waves, sending a frigid spray up into their faces and soaking their clothes. 

“What did I say about the spinning?” Astrid shouts, coughing. There isn’t any real anger in her voice but Toothless obliges her anyway, leveling out into a glide. Astrid’s limbs unwind from around Hiccup, who takes note of their surroundings. 

They’ve left the boat behind and are flying over open sea. The water sparkles in the dying light and as Toothless skates close to the surface, Hiccup can see their shadowy reflections. 

“By Sif, it’s beautiful,” he sighs, and Toothless beats his wings to take them higher, up into the clouds. Astrid skims the pink mist with the same sense of awe as when she was a girl. 

Pink clouds give way to turquoise and then to white as night descends, a blue so deep that were it not for the snowy drifts, they might as well be floating through the ocean. If Hiccup closes his eyes, he can imagine he’s fifteen again, just a boy with a crush and a secret. 

“The first time we flew together,” Astrid whispers against his ear, sending shivers down his spine, “I thought if we went high enough we could find Odin’s rainbow bridge and fly up to Asgard.” 

“I’m not so sure we can’t,” he murmurs. “Can you imagine?” 

“My father always said it was beyond imagining,” she says. “The great mead hall, Idunn’s orchard of immortality. Anything you could come up with, it would be even more beautiful than that.” 

“I don’t know,” he says. “We’ve seen the Hidden World. I think that’s got to come close.” 

Astrid twines her arms around his chest and nestles her head against his shoulder. “Good point.” 

They fly in silence for a while, no sound but the wind and the sound of their own breathing and the occasional croon from Toothless. The moon is waxing, a silver claw hanging in the dark. The stars are blazing, bright hot. Hiccup has no sense of where they are, nor does he want to. The norðrljós flares into being, like an emerald trail of Zippleback gas. He cranes his head back to stare up at it. 

“Hiccup,” Astrid gasps, “Look! Look below us.” 

He does look and a lump forms in his throat. They’re soaring over New Berk, not so near that anyone could see them from the ground, but enough that they can see cooking fires from the Great Hall and hear the sound of pan flutes. He’s never had the chance to see his home from this vantage point. He thinks his father, who never saw it at all, would be proud. 

Stormfly is dozing when they return to the ship, but she perks up as Astrid slips down from Toothless’s back and kisses his scaly nose. “That was amazing,” she tells him. “You’re amazing.” 

“Thank you, Bud,” Hiccup gets out, pressing his forehead to his best friend’s snout. It’s the most he can manage, but Toothless coos in understanding.

They stand at the prow to watch the dragons out of sight, and once they’re gone, to enjoy the quiet. 

“Hey.” Astrid swipes at him with a gentle, playful punch to the shoulder. “That,” she declares, “is for taking so long to bring us to visit.” 

He rolls his eyes and tugs her against him, caressing her hip. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “And what about for everything else?” 

“Hmm,” she says, fixing him with a wicked grin, “we’ll see about that one later.”


End file.
